


A night like any other...

by rtz684



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: (not a birthday fic though), Happy Birthday Iwafune Tenkei, Iwa-san week 2017, character study? kind of, pre K Return of Kings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 03:18:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10234646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rtz684/pseuds/rtz684
Summary: One of the rare times Iwa leaves the base, meeting the outside world.-Going a little deeper into his thoughts and emotions, combined with a simple anecdote. (You could say this is headcanon-ish...?)





	

"I'll be right back!"

Iwa grinned with a casual hand wave. He rarely went out, truth be told, but there were exceptions, either when the other J rankers were busy with missions or when he felt like it. That was a thing about him. Iwafune was an empty man. After Kagutsu’s _damocles down_ , all the beliefs that made him  _him_ were crushed coldly by this inevitable incident. It was reality. God's will, you might say. His wake up call. Trashing everything away, he was left with nothing but silence and grief. Iwafune started hating **silence** after that.

He found a reason, however. It wasn't as if he considered suicide - _why would he deserve a second chance? Just due to being a King, how did that make him different from the rest of his clan? No, he wasn't. He didn't..._ \- In any case, it taught Iwafune to start valuing life more than ever. But not dying, and living were very different things. Iwafune didn't die - for his clan, for the victims whose sacrifice would become pointless. And he lived, for Nagare. Iwa didn't believe the world could be saved, not this shitty, unfair world of the strong and the weak.

A new world needed to be born. Yet Iwa who had failed everybody, who had been wrong all along and lost his fight had no right to act like a hero anymore. He was just a useless drunk now, one who's time had stopped at some point, unable to keep moving forward, unable to embrace the past either. No, it was not in his hands anymore. His hand was to be placed on Nagare's shoulder. Nagare wasn't a naive child, but he wasn't a boring adult either. Unlike Iwa, he still had dreams to fight for, but these were dreams he could - no, he _would_ achieve. Not hoping, no trusting, but taking it all in his hands and turning the world around. Iwafune was aware of the dangerous chaos awaiting them, were Nagare to succeed. He saw Nagare's wild smile, and saw in that excitement a tremendous power of destruction, great enough to crash him along with everyone and everything. And yet, all of this, everything Nagare was, it fascinated him.

It was Nagare that made Iwa feel alive, the air filling and leaving his lungs, the blood rushing through his veins. Cooking for Nagare, building machines for Nagare. Keeping track of JUNGLE. If it were for him Iwa felt like he might - even if just for a little bit - be a King again, were Nagare to ask him. But sometimes not even that was enough. He lived for Nagare, but as time passed and the child grew up, Nagare stopped depending on him. At least, not needing him constantly - which was perfectly alright, really, but Iwa found himself sitting in the living room often, an empty place, filled only with _silence_ \- and silence made him think, made him **remember**...

Iwafune filled his emptiness with anything that came in handy. Nagare, most of the time, and chores in general but other times he just acted on whatever whim he had, would go along with anything that crossed his mind. The alternative was drinking - and he did plenty of that as it was. One time as he drank his emptiness away Nagare had gazed at him in a way that said it all. He wouldn't ask him to stop because, Nagare **_knew_** , but he didn't like it. Seeing Iwafune in that state. Iwa didn't drink as a form of self-destruction - he just didn't care whether it would hurt him or not as long as it blurred his senses, blurred his mind. But since that day, he had lowered the can and decided to control himself - drinking only in the evening after all the chores were done. Because falling asleep required calm and _silence_ , and so Iwa was unable to sleep unless he passed out on beer most nights.

When Sukuna and Yukari joined JUNGLE Iwa found himself with lots more of time in his hands and he started leaning even more on irrational childiness just so he would never be let alone with his thoughts. And so, when wrinkles started marking his expression and his hair grew thick and wavy, Iwa started leaving the base more. Surely the crazy theorists that still wouldn't accept the honorable Grey King's - _ha_ \- death would've returned to their holes more than ten years after. After all, he could barely recognized himself in the mirror anymore, Iwa doubted anyone else would - he was glad for his aging image, really. And almost _disgusted_ too, for the same exact reason - so this was what he had become. Iwa didn't look at himself in the mirror much, either.

-

He checked the list in his phone, making his way through the dark tunnels of the secret base. When you were dead to the world there were only so many places you could go to - places you weren't asked an ID to get into. Iwafune didn't even risk going into small shops more than once, kept changing places constantly - which could be pain, but not that much of a big deal. As he finally walked outside, he looked up, stars shining faintly, partly drowned out by the city lights. For a long time now, looking at the sky had become a priviledge. Although the world outside those three walls made into a home didn’t mean much to Iwafune. The world he’d given up on.

-

“Welcome.” The convenience store cashier muttered, eyes not raising from the magazine in his hand. From the cheerful high-school part-timers to the soulless attendants, there was a wide variety of people working in places like that. On night shifts though, everything was toned down a bit.

“Yo.” Iwa answered carelessly, glancing around.

Under the flickering fluorescents, surrounded by shelves packed with colorful products, there were only the bored worker, a child and Iwafune. There was no background music. He decided not to waste any time.

Easily getting everything he had noted, Iwa headed to the counter just as the kid, who looked like a first-year middle-schooler, - maybe – stopped in front of it to pay for his own things. “That’ll be 599 yen.” Said the other, in a plain voice, eyes dull. The child reached in his pocket, but - … With a confused face, he reached into the other. As fingertips rubbed insistently against the fabric as if wanting to make another hole into it, he paled. The cashier snorted.

“I forgot my wallet!”

“Yeah, right.” Came the answer in another drawl, eyes rolling.

“It’s true!” The child placed both hands on the counter then, not yelling, but louder, expression growing desperate. Because children were like that, defending their honor as if they had been questioned, taking things personally as if the man cared any whether he was being honest or not – as long as he paid and left, he looked more like he’d be fine with that money being robbed from a pregnant woman. _Not all of them though._  Iwa smiled unconsciously, thinking of a certain brat as he watched the scene from behind. “I swear!”

  
“You can swear on your mom if you wanna, pay now or get out.” The cashier pointed his thumb at the exit.

  
“But I don’t have my wallet! And you don’t have to be so mean.”

  
“Alright, alright.” Iwa intervened, palms raised in a calming gesture, smiling lopsidedly. If this guy turned out to be enough of an asshole to provoke a kid and make this into a dramatic thing – and it seemed just like it – he’d never hear the end of it. He wasn’t in a hurry, but had no particular interest in staying either. “Let’s not make a mountain out of a molehill, shall we?”

  
“Are you with this kid, old man?” It showed just how much attention he paid to the clients coming in and out of the store. His lips twisted in annoyance.

Iwafune ignored him, picking up the money from his own wallet instead. Big, innocent eyes stared at him. “599 yen, ain't it?” He let enough money to cover everything fall on the counter, placing his own stuff along with it. The cashier checked if the money was correct in silence, the amount he had been given turned out to be exact. – products came along with price tags after all, it had been pretty easy fro Iwa to make the numbers somewhere in the back of his mind. The two clients grabbed their purchases and left, waved off by a half-hearted ‘Thank you very much’ and the sound of magazine pages being flipped.

Automatic doors slid closed after them. Maybe, the kid had been lying. Maybe he really had wanted to trick an adult into paying for his things playing small innocent boy in trouble. Perhaps Iwa looked like the big hearted fool to fall for it – in the past it may had been that way, because he was too naive, too forgiving, too sensible... He would have gone as far as to go back home empty-handed if that meant he got to help somebody, spending his money on others. But this wasn’t it. Whether that had been on purpose or not, it didn’t matter to Iwa. It wasn’t his problem, really, just that standing there watching the youth bicker energetically was quite tiresome and JUNGLE was by no means lacking financial resources. He didn’t care at all. What hadn’t changed however is that children had always liked Ootori, and liked Iwa as well for some reason or another.

And then, the child turned, with that wide smile that only children can manage, and said. “Thank you, kind sir. God bless you.” And just like that run off, waving a hand.

Which was the funniest thing, really. Because Iwa wasn’t wearing his robes. And Christian population was quite the minority in that area. Even more, the part of the population who would say such line to a stranger after they were bought a pack of instant noodles. Iwafune stared dumbly at the shrinking shadow. Hilarious, really. _God bless you_ , _huh. No chances of that happening_ , the man thought, smiling meaninglessly. Him and _That Guy_ weren’t on good terms, you see. Shaking his head, Iwafune turned, walking towards the base. Pulling the hood lower over his eyes, he didn’t once look up at the sky during the way back.

“Children shouldn’t be out in the street at late hours…”

 

[“Children shouldn’t be out in the street at late hours…” ](https://twitter.com/nightstain/status/841601607599083520)


End file.
